Bright Light City
by Mr.Wallace
Summary: *Next in the Fallout Chronicles series by Mr. Wallace* Join the Courier as he tries to carve out a living in New Vegas. Courier/Sunny Smiles. *Officially on hold until the completion of "Renewing a Nation."*
1. Chapter 1

**Bright Light City**

**A Fallout: New Vegas Fanfiction**

**Quest Added: Viva New Vegas**

Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Fallout or its affiliates.

Summary: The defeat of Caesar's Legion and the Legate has left the Mojave Wasteland in a state of 'peace.' The hero of the Mojave: The Courier, also known as Brandon, has decided to push on with his life in the Mojave's Sin City. This story follows a high karma Courier. Brandon decided to side with the NCR, leaving Mr. House unhooked from his cerebral mainframe.

Description of the Courier (Brandon): Blonde hair. Green eyes. Tan complexion. Dean Martin hairstyle.

**Note from the Author: Greetings once again, fellow "Renewing a Nation" readers! It pleases me to bring to you the next chronicle in my Fallout saga. Not to worry, I fully intend on continuing "Renewing a Nation." I have but recently finished New Vegas and am very excited to bring to you my continuation. This follows a relationship between the Courier and Sunny Smiles of Goodsprings. I hope you enjoy!**

**Note to keep in mind: The events of Fallout 3 take place in 2278. The events in which this story will take place accurately coincide with the chosen game year, 2281. You may also encounter some spoilers for what is to come in "Renewing a Nation."**

Chapter One

After his meeting with General Oliver, Brandon made his way back to New Vegas. He slung his Brush Gun across his shoulders as he made his way across the Hoover Dam.

"Mr. Brandon!" came a shout from above.

Brandon looked up to see General Oliver once again from atop a lookout point on the dam. "Come inside! I have one more thing for you!" Shouted the General who then retreated back into his office.

Brandon walked up and knocked on the General's door. "Enter!"

Brandon walked inside. "General?"

"I forgot to tell you." The General said motioning to a wooden crate in the corner of his office.

"On behalf of myself, Governor Kimball, and the President of the United States, I hereby commission you as an honorary Veteran Ranger for the New California Republic as well as an honorary Federal Marshal of the Peace." The General said opening the crate to reveal a brand new Veteran Ranger helmet and uniform.

Brandon was very shocked. "Wow, sir. It's an honor."

"This as well, boy." The General said holding a flat wooden box with the Presidential Seal as well as the seal of the NCR. He opened it to reveal a new Ranger Sequoia. "We're very thankful for everything you've done. I can honestly say we couldn't have done it without you." General Oliver said patting Brandon on the shoulder. "Should you ever feel the need for an assignment, or if you just wanna walk around and scare people shitless, come and see me."

"Thank you very much General. I'm glad I could help." Brandon said putting the Sequoia back into its box and into the larger crate that held the Veteran Ranger uniform.

"Where will you go now?" The General asked lighting a cigar.

"Well" Brandon said lifting the heavy box and resting it on his right shoulder, "Since I was able to get rid of Mr. House, I guess the Lucky 38 falls to me. Since I was able to run Benny out of town, Swank of The Tops and I were able to secure a dual ownership of the place. Come over and play sometime, General." Brandon said making his way to the door.

"I may just do so." Said the General taking a puff of his cigar, "I just may."

Brandon made the long journey back to the Strip and into the Presidential Suite of the Lucky 38 where he finally laid himself down and slept without a care.

That was five months ago.

After that day, Brandon worked tirelessly to get the Lucky 38 back into working order. He hired many needy people from Freeside with help from the King to work in the casino. This made public opinion towards Brandon soar. Many of the poor Freeside residents working at the casino were just happy to be able to have a clean shower and a set of nice work clothes, courtesy of the Lucky 38.

On opening night, Brandon arranged for Billy Knight as well as the Rad Pack to perform at the Lucky 38's theatre. Meaningless to say, opening night was a huge success. Caps and actual U.S. federal currency flew in like mad. Brandon just liked going around, talking to people he had met before, and even playing at a table once and a while, dressed in the suit that he made Benny leave behind in exchange for his secret release from Caesar.

One evening, as Brandon was meeting and greeting travelers and gamblers, he came face to face with none other than Doc Mitchell.

"Brandon! How the hell are ya?" Said the gruff old doctor that Brandon quite literally owed his life to.

"I'm doing well, thanks. How about you? What brings you to New Vegas?" Brandon asked ushering Doc Mitchells to a nearby table.

"Well, to be honest, I'm looking for you. Goodsprings needs your help again." Doc Mitchells said.

Brandon leaned in closer. "What's the problem?"

"Well, it's the Powder Gangers. I know you raided the NCR prison and got rid of the lot, but they seem to keep popping up, especially Joe Cobb and his gang. They beat the living hell out of Easy Pete last week. Sunny sent me to find you." Doc Mitchells said looking at Brandon.

Brandon didn't make eye contact as Doc Mitchells gave him the story. Finally, Brandon looked up and made eye contact with the Doc and said, "Say no more. I'll arrange for some motorcycles in the morning." Brandon said reaching into his pocket pulling out a key and handing it to Doc Mitchells. "Lemme comp you a room, Doc. After all you did save my life!" Brandon said with a smile as they both got up.

"So tell me Brandon. I hear that most folks you got hired here are all vagrants. But for vagrants you sure got them cleaned up nice." Doc said as he made his way to the elevator.

"Were vagrants. I always make sure that all the employees here get a hot shower, set of clean work clothes, and dinner before they start their shifts. Believe me; the crime rate in Freeside is slim to none. They all get good wages, and none of them complain. Hell, they all love it here, and I'm glad I could help them. About a year ago when I first came to New Vegas, I did some work around Freeside and I really hoped that someday something or someone would help these poor people. The NCR would only pass out aid to those who were deemed 'citizens.' In fact, not long after I entered Freeside for the first time, I saw three kids chasing a rat. Once one of them killed it, I saw them openly eat the bugger. It was a nasty sight. I'm just glad that I can use MY earnings to help give back. Freeside and the Kings back me up 100 percent, and that manages to keep the NCR tax collectors outta here and the Tops. Since I ousted Benny, Swank, Benny's second in command who helped me get rid of the Benny decided to compromise with me and we agreed to a mutual ownership of the place. He runs the casino full time, I provide promotions and other stuff like that, and we split the profit that comes to us 50/50." Brandon said as he walked alongside the Doc as he got into the elevator.

"You'll have to tell me more in the morning. Would leaving at seven tomorrow morning work?" Doc Mitchell said as he pushed his floor button.

"Definitely." Brandon said as the door closed.

**I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please let me know what you think. I know it seems like the story is moving quick, but it's really not.**

**Another thing! Try not to think of the Lone Wanderer in this story. Brandon's personality is a little different. Brandon is a bit more outspoken than Daniel is in "Renewing a Nation."**

**Again, please leave a review. I always appreciate people who take the time to let me know what they think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bright Light City**

**A Fallout: New Vegas Fanfiction**

**Quest Added: Viva New Vegas**

Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Fallout or its affiliates.

Summary: The defeat of Caesar's Legion and the Legate has left the Mojave Wasteland in a state of 'peace.' The hero of the Mojave: The Courier, also known as Brandon, has decided to push on with his life in the Mojave's Sin City. This story follows a high karma Courier. Brandon decided to side with the NCR, leaving Mr. House unhooked from his cerebral mainframe.

Description of the Courier (Brandon): Blonde hair. Green eyes. Tan complexion. Dean Martin hairstyle. No facial hair.

**Note from the Author: Thank you once again to those who read and appreciate my works. This next one is for you. Cheers!**

Chapter 2

Brandon woke up the next morning around 6, his usual rousing time. After a quick bath, he decided to slip into his Veteran Ranger duster, shirt, pants, and boots. Instead of wearing the Veteran mask, he decided to wear a regular Ranger patrol hat. He loaded his Sequoia for the first time and slid it gracefully into his holster. After loading 45-70's into his hip bandolier, he tossed his Brush Gun across his shoulder and headed out of his room after eating a box of eradiated Sugar Bombs.

As he crossed the main lobby towards the door, he caught a lot of strange glances from the staff, along with a few confused "good morning, Mr. Brandon."

The ride to Goodsprings took a good two hours. It didn't help that a Deathclaw, which had scared Doc Mitchell senseless, had decided to sleep in the middle of the highway. Brandon, who was a safe distance from the dangerous beast, shouldered his Brush Gun and quickly punched a round downrange and quite literally took a chuck out of the skull of the beast. The monster never awoke again.

As Doc and Brandon entered the Prospector Saloon, Brandon was caught off guard by a growling Cheyanne once again.

"Cheyanne! Shh!" Said Sunny Smiles poking her head through the door. "Oh? Brandon!" Sunny said rushing up to him and embracing him into a hug. "It's so good to see you again! From what I've heard on the radio, you're definitely not the man that could barely handle a varmint rifle that I remember." Sunny said smiling.

Sunny Smiles was a beautiful woman. In a town like Goodsprings, beauty like hers wasn't able to be recognized to its fullest potential. To be honest, Sunny was one of the nicest people he had ever met in the Wasteland. Come to think of it, she was also the most beautiful.

"Ha! Well I give you all the credit in helping me to become the man I am now." Brandon said with a smile as Doc made his way to the bar for a drink.

Sunny actually blushed. "Oh shut it. That's not true! All I did was teach you to shoot bottles."

"No Sunny I'm serious. If it wasn't for you, I'd be walking aimlessly in the direction of New Vegas, probably getting picked off by raiders. You get all the credit in my book." Brandon said as honestly as he could.

Sunny smiled. "Well thank you. Doc told me why he brought you here…and I couldn't be happier. Joe Cobb is due here anytime soon with his gang. If you can help us get rid of him, you'll be doing a huge service for us here in Goodsprings."

Brandon smiled in return. "No problem, Sunny. It's my pleasure."

"Hey Sunny! Come on out here and cozy up to ol' Joe!" Came a shout from outside. The bar and its patrons went dead silent. Sunny's smile faded.

"Help us." Sunny said as she walked out the door. It was then that Brandon's tactical skills kicked back in. "Doc, take your shotgun and cover me from out back. Wait for me to shoot first." Doc nodded in acknowledgement. Brandon straightened his hat, brushed off his duster and straightened his NCR Ranger badge and walked outside.

"Oh Sunny…when this town is mine…I'll…I'll…ohhhhh boy what I won't do to you!" Joe Cobb said running his hand down Sunny's cheek. Sunny replied to his advances with a slap across the cheek. Joe grabbed Sunny's hand and threw her down to the ground.

"That's enough!" Brandon said walking out the door.

"And who the fuck are you?" Joe said as his gang members flanked his sides.

"Name's Brandon. I'm a Ranger with the NCR and the Federal Government." Brandon said walking down the saloon's steps onto the street and faced Joe and his cronies. From Easy Pete's view on the porch of the saloon, it looked just like an Old West shootout from the stories his father told him oh so many years ago.

"Hey Boss! I know this guy. He knocked off Eddie at the prison." said one of the gang members.

"Is that a fact?" Joe asked Brandon.

"Possibly." was Brandon's reply.

Joe's hand hovered close to his pistol. Daniel moved his duster to reveal his Sequoia. By this time, Sunny took refuge near the saloon.

"Fuck Boss, he's a Veteran Ranger. Let's book it." Another gang member said.

Joe chuckled. "There's seven of us…and one of him. I like them odds." Joe said with a smile and quickly went for his gun, unfortunately not fast enough.

Brandon whipped out his Sequoia like flash of lightning and in a split second sent five 45-70 rounds down, practically decapitating Joe and four other gang members. By this time, the two others drew, but Sunny who had a concealed pistol took a quick shot and missed. One of the gang members noticed and took a shot at Sunny hitting her square in the stomach. As she fell with a shout of pain, Doc Mitchells unloaded his shotgun on the other two, sending them dead into a pile of blood and gore.

The sound of Sunny's pain hit Brandon and he immediately rushed to her side. Easy Pete was holding her head.

"Sunny? Sunny! Hold on." Brandon said. "Doc! Hurry!"

Upon examining her wounds and carrying her to Doc's office, Doc went to work removing the bullet.

"Wait!" Sunny said as the Doc went for his instruments. "Don't you have gas or something to put me out?" Sunny groaned. Brandon got up and stood at her side.

Doc's face drooped. "I'm sorry. I've been out for quite some time. Traders don't bring it around anymore."

"Fuck!" Sunny said through clenched teeth.

"Here Sunny. Gimme your hand." Brandon said holding her bloodied hand. Doc Mitchell gave Sunny a strip of leather to bite onto. He put it into her mouth, leaving her unable to speak. Sunny looked up and Brandon who had now removed his hat, showing his beautiful styled blonde hair, with her teary eyes. It tore Brandon's heart apart. "Shhh. It's ok Sunny. I'm here. I'm not going to leave you."

Doc lifted her shirt a bit, sterilized the wound area and motioned to Brandon that he was going to begin.

As Doc sent in his probe to find the bullet, Sunny's face contorted and squeezed Brandon's hand very tightly as she bit down onto the leather. Silent tears flew down her cheek.

"Shhh. You're fine Sunny…you're so brave. Just hold on….I'm here…I'm not leaving you." Brandon comforted as he wiped the sweat off Sunny's brow. To be blunt, this was tearing Brandon apart. He hated to see the nicest girl he'd ever met in such extreme pain. In efforts to help her, he used his free hand to fan her face with his ranger hat, which seemed to help a bit.

At the last moment, her grip on Brandon's hand reached the extreme pressure as she emitted a deep moan.

"Got it." Doc Mitchell said as the bullet made a pang as it fell into a metal bowl. He quickly wrapped her up in gauze and injected a stimpack. The pressure on Brandon's hand remained. "Sunny, he got it! You're gonna be just fine. You're the bravest person I've ever seen …I'm being honest." Brandon said removing the leather from her mouth, noting the deep bite marks.

"Oh Brandon, it hurts so badly!" Sunny cried.

Brandon nearly broke down. "Hey Doc. Please…can I give her some Med-X?"

"Not too much, Brandon! That stuff isn't good for the body; you know that!" Doc Mitchell chastised.

Brandon quickly removed and injected Sunny with a quarter dose of Med-X. The grip pressure immediately subsided.

The last thing Sunny saw before she drifted off into a stage of unconsciousness was Brandon wiping her brow with a wet, cold rag; shushing her to relax and that he would be here right beside her.

As soon as Sunny slipped into an unconscious sleep, Brandon got up and walked up to the Doc.

"Thanks, Doc. I owe you big time." Brandon said sitting next to Doc Mitchells on the sofa in his living room.

"No, nonsense. You're a hell of a guy to have around. I'm just glad I could have helped." Doc said taking a sip of coffee.

"Doc…what was the deal with the bullet. I've had a few bullets pulled out of my gut before and I could at least tolerate it. What was the deal with Sunny?" Brandon asked taking the cup of coffee gestured to him.

"Shit." Doc Mitchells said getting up and returning with the small metal bowl. He set it on the coffee table between the two. Daniel reached to pick up the bullet, but was stopped by the Doc who grabbed his hand.

"No! Don't touch it! It's a Phosphorous Auger bullet." Doc said releasing his hand.

Brandon was confused. He had never heard of such ammunition. Brandon was always a good patron at Gun Runners, and they never carried that kind of bullet.

"You look confused." Doc observed. "They're big time black market. Not even the NCR or Caesar's Legion use them from what I'm told. They're all hand-made. When they are shot out of the barrel, these six spikes flail out. Since the rifling of the pistol gave it a spin, it basically hit Sunny and ground giant hole into her. And to make it worse, the bullet was dipped in phosphorous so not only did the bullet drill a big hole into her, it also burned the hell out of her stomach." Doc explained.

Brandon was appalled. "So these bullets are made to cause pain?"

"Exactly, that's all they're made to do. Cause the utmost amount of pain before the victim dies. That's why I didn't want you to touch it. It's still got a few traces of phosphorous on it. Shit will burn you bad. Sunny is extremely brave and lucky. Her leather armor took the brunt of the bullet's effect. She's lucky that her armor stopped the spin on the bullet. It kept the thing from shredding her intestines. That's why she screamed bloody murder. I've only dealt with one other case of the same type, back in my traveling physician days. Poor Veteran Ranger took one to the side of his torso. He screamed like none other. He died before I could even get his armor off. Sunny was probably the bravest patient I've ever seen to take a Phosphorous Auger." The Doc said refilling his cup.

Sunny Smiles awoke from her slumber to a sloppy lick on the cheek.

"Wha?" Sunny asked confused as her vision was still somewhat blurry.

"Woof!" Came her trusty dog, Cheyanne.

"Oh, Cheyanne! You're ok." Sunny rasped, still a bit weak.

**Thanks for reading! Please be kind and leave a review!**


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